It was the bite of a predator or an enemy. There was no hurt to it, just the gentle pinch of her teeth on his skin and gentle pressure from her lips. When she drew back, she could see a red mark there that she thought would darken nicely, and he grinned at her.
“What a cruel mistress you are,” he teased.
She tossed her long hair with mock arrogance. “You've seen nothing yet,” she said, and she slid to the floor.
She could hear his breath catch when she reached for his fly, and when she opened his jeans, his cock needed little urging before it sprang out. She stroked the hard length with her hand as she inspected it. It was large and dark with blood, and she glanced up, a sly smile on her face.
“Now I do like this,” she said, squeezing the cock around the base, and whatever answer he was going to make was lost to his moan of pleasure. She gave two more slow tugs, and then she closed her mouth over the tip. His skin was smooth and slightly salty on her lips, and when she heard him groan, she took him in deeper.
Yvonne could feel herself grow wetter from the simple feel of his cock in her mouth, and she reached down between her legs with her free hand, spreading her own wet folds and plunging first a single finger inside her sex, and then two.
“Please, please,” Morgan whispered. “I... I cannot hold on much longer, Yvonne...”
“Neither… neither can I,” she agreed, pulling back.
She climbed on his hips, hovering with her sex over his cock, and with a slow, sleek motion that seemed to push the air right out of her, she slid down on his length. His hands resumed their place on her rear, and he looked up at her, the gold in his eyes almost swallowed by black desire.
“Can I?” he asked, and she nodded, knowing what he wanted.
His hands tightened on her hips, and he rolled himself up to meet her. She gasped to feel how completely he filled her, and her hands fisted in his hair.
“More, more,” she whispered, and he thrust up harder into her as a reply. He set a hard and fast rhythm because she wanted nothing but that, nothing but the hard heat of him driving up into her, his hands tight on her hips, and his voice breaking in that gorgeous way as he cried out for her.
She could feel the tightness coiling in her lower belly, and she knew he was close. It dawned on her that he would refuse to climax, refuse to let go until she did, and the thought of him putting his pleasure before her broke her open.
Her orgasm rushed over her like a wave, and she threw back her head and cried out her pleasure, hearing it echo through the room. He followed a scant moment later, holding her tight to his chest as he spilled deep inside her.
For a long moment, they both shivered in each others’ arms, still intimately joined. Yvonne knew that there was still much to say, much she needed to hear, but now she was exhausted. She had not slept in more than twenty-four hours, and not five hours ago, they were both fighting for their lives. She pulled away from him, ignoring his soft sound of protest, and she tugged at him until he lay down on the couch. She snuggled into his arms, and she knew that she had never been as safe as she was in that moment.
The pair fell into an exhausted slumber, and on Yvonne's face was a peaceful, satisfied smile.
***
In the forest, mere yards away from the cabin, a dark figure, a beast, lurked, waiting. It could smell the swan blood in the cabin, and the beast licked its lips, whining angrily to itself. It had been close, so close, but then the judge had appeared.
No matter. There would be another time. There would be another girl, if not this one.
The beast slunk away, dark promise in every line of its body.
TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK FIVE: Only Your Touch - Volume 5
***
Only Your Touch
***
Synopsis
After the attack on the wereswan Yvonne, she and her lover, the weretiger Morgan Durrant, go and deliver their testimony in front of the other judges and the shape changers of Harrispont. Soon, a plan is formed to draw out the murderer, but it puts Yvonne in the worst danger of her life. Can she face the murderer who nearly killed her once, and can Morgan stand to put her life at risk?
***
Yvonne opened her eyes, aware that she was not at her own apartment and deliciously sore. The memories of the previous night came back to her in a rush, and she sat up abruptly. Her wild flight from a dark monster in the forest made her heart beat faster, but when her thoughts ventured to what had happened after, when she had been rescued by a weretiger named Morgan Durrant and taken to his home, she smiled with satisfaction.
She was alone in his luxurious cabin, and though they had fallen asleep on the couch together, tucked under a warm wool blanket, she was now quite alone. The sun was already high in the sky, slanting in golden and lovely through the enormous window, and she stretched before climbing to her feet. She was quite naked, and after a moment's consideration, she dropped the blanket carelessly to the couch, pacing the large room naked.
She was a tall woman with broad hips and small breasts. Her pale hair hung to the small of her back, and as she walked, she reached back to braid it carelessly. She walked with the comfort of a woman who knew her beauty and her worth, and she wondered, after last night, if she had found someone who understood it as well.
He had touched her so gently and so sweetly, only doing exactly what she wished, and she sighed again. She could have wished that he left marks on her. As it was, the only reminder of their night together was a ghost of pleasure that wisped around her body like steam.
Yvonne found the gleaming bathroom, gasping at the beauty of the wooden tub and the tile floor. She lived in a small apartment in the city, and this kind of luxury was unknown to her. Hesitantly, she reached out to touch the wood of the tub, and impulsively, she climbed in. Fiddling with the fixtures released a jet of startlingly hot water, and she yelped and turned it down.
Well, if he's gone out, I'm sure he won't mind if I make myself at home.
The tub filled in a few simple moments, and she allowed herself to sink into the luxuriously hot water with a deep sigh. She was swan-blooded, and when she wished to do so, she could assume the shape of an enormous trumpeter swan. She could swim, she could fly, she could stretch her arms out into enormous wings of immense power, but right now, all she wanted to do was to sink into the hot water and feel it against her pale skin.
She soaked for a few minutes, feeling the knots in her body work themselves loose, and then she found the soap. It smelled of pine, and the shampoo smelled of juniper. When she used them, it made her smell so much like Morgan that she shivered.
When she was clean, she was still not quite ready to get out of the warmth of the bath, and under the murky swirls of the water, her legs spread, and her hand ventured between them. The memory of riding him the night before, of his power between her legs and the nearly-pained cries that he had forced from her throat made her body tingle with delicious anticipation, and soon her hips were rocking in time to that primal rhythm.
“You're lovely.”
In another time and another place, she would have twisted around, thrown something, shrieked, but now she only opened her eyes to see him leaning in the doorway, his golden eyes alight with desire. He was a big man, tall and broad, and now that he was clad in nothing but a pair of black silk boxer shorts, she could see nearly every inch of his heavy frame.
He was a weretiger, and though thanks to his position as a lawgiver among their kind, he controlled the element of fire, there was nothing but lust lighting him up now. Her gaze drifted down to the erection that tented his boxers, and she smiled at him.
“Hello there,” she said, her voice soft and husky. “I couldn't find you, so I thought that I would take advantage of your lovely bathroom.”
“If it leads to you being naked and smiling at me like that, I'm sure that you can take advantage of a lot more than my bathroom,” he said with a grin. “Do you mind some company?”
“Well, I would say I'd love to
have you, but you do seem awfully overdressed, Morgan.”
His grin grew sharp and white, and he shucked off the boxers in the space of an instant. Yvonne sucked in her breath as his dark cock sprang out hard and proud in front of him.
“You're gorgeous in the water, you know that?” he whispered. “Like you were born for it. Like you were born for me...”
“Or you were born for me,” she retorted, reaching out a languid hand to stroke his straining flesh. She watched, her breath hissing between her teeth, as his hands clenched and unclenched by his sides. He wanted her. She knew he wanted her, and still he would wait forever to hear her say yes.
“I want you,” she said softly, and Yvonne had the pleasure of seeing his eyes widen in a sudden flame of desire.
“How?” he breathed.
She could feel him straining against her hand as if he were a dog on a leash, and it sent a deep tremor of longing and lust through her body.
“I want you to lift me out of the water,” she murmured, stroking his flesh. “I want you to bend me over the tub and I want you enter me from behind. I want you to make me scream so that it echoes off the walls, and I want you to climax inside me.”
“Tell me I can,” he whispered, and she laughed.
“Yes, a thousand time's yes,” she sang, and he reached for her with shaking hands.
He didn't handle her roughly or hastily, as his hunger told her he might. Instead, he lifted her from the water like a precious treasure, cradling her in his arms for a long moment and dropping kiss after drugging kiss on her lips. She wrapped her strong arms around his neck and kissed him back with fervor. It was all that she could do not to moan outright, and then he was setting her down again, her back to him and her feet on the tiled floor.
A firm hand between her shoulder blades pressed her down, and she set her hands on the opposite side of the tub. The tips of her sensitive nipples brushed against the water, sending ripples of sensation straight down to her belly, and she whimpered as he brushed a calloused palm against her tender flank.
His foot slid between her feet, urging her to widen her stance, and when she made herself more accessible, his hand lit on the inside of her thigh, moving upward.
Yvonne murmured with impatience when he brushed the edge of one finger along her furrow. The wetness of the water made her open easily, and soon she was rocking back against him. She could feel this hard cock pressed against her thigh, and she rubbed against it, uncaring of how desperate she was. He made her desperate, and she did not mind letting this man know.
Morgan's fingers grew more demanding, and soon he was thrusting two fingers in and out of her body. She was wet inside, and she could feel the way it mixed with the water, soaking his fingers entirely and easing his passage.
“You feel like heaven,” he murmured, and she whimpered in reply. She’d had his cock inside her once, and it was all she wanted now. When he slipped the pad of his thumb up against her clit, she nearly levitated, and then she bore down on it as if it were the only thing in the world that could save her.
“Oh please,” she gasped. “Now, please, now, now, you're everything I want, please!”
“As my lady wishes,” he growled, and immediately, without waiting for a pause, he drew his hand back and wrapped it around his cock
Yvonne whimpered with impatience when Morgan gave his cock two tantalizing pumps before pressing the hard blunt tip against her wet slit. Still he didn't thrust into her like she wished. Instead, his entry was smooth as silk, but slow, so slow. She tried to push herself back against him, but his hands on her hips prevented her from moving. Yvonne cried out with impatience, and Morgan answered her with a laugh that was more than half growl.
“You want more?” he muttered, a rough teasing note in his voice, and Yvonne's hands tightened on the rim of the tub.
“Yes,” she snarled. “Yes, yes, damn you!”
Without any warning at all, he thrust hard into her, burying himself to the hilt inside her willing body. The pleasure spiked through her, pushing her forward onto her toes. With a deep groan, she pushed back against him, feeling the way he filled her, the way his hands tightened on her hips and the sound of his heavy breathing behind her.
“Come on,” she urged. “Remember what I said? Make me scream.”
The only answer was a series of hard thrusts that nearly bounced her off of his hips. She had to brace herself against the wooden tub, but when she did, she pushed back with a will. Usually, she needed more touching on her clit before she was driven so wild, but now there was nothing of that in her mind at all. Instead, she arched her back like a cat and moaned wildly with every stroke.
She was calling his name, she was crying out her love and her lust, and it didn't matter. Her voice echoed off of the tiled walls of the bathroom just as she had wanted it to, and before she knew it, her legs were trembling with tension and with pleasure that suffused her from her toes to the crown of her head.
“Oh, oh god Morgan, please,” she wailed, and he laughed, as breathless and overwhelmed as she was.
“Not until you,” Morgan panted, and she knew that there would not be a release for him before she had hers.
That was the thought that drove her over the edge, the one that made her tighten her body like a fist around him. She bucked against him hard, every muscle in her body straining against him. The pleasure pounded through her like the strokes of a hammer, and she wailed, whimpering with a kind of ecstatic pleasure that she had never felt before.
She drifted lazily in the wreckage of that pleasure as he thrust into her, slowly now, and she felt his pleasure drawing out like a strand of silk.
“Go on,” she whispered, a dazed note to her voice. “I want you to, go on.”
When he poured himself into her, he leaned his weight against her form, and she could feel every shudder. The feel of his skin pressed so intimately to hers was a kind of paradise that she had never considered before. Carrying his pleasurable weight against her back, she smiled dreamily.
It was a short eternity later when he lifted his weight from her, and Yvonne murmured a sleepy protest.
“I must be too heavy,” he whispered, and she made a soft noise of negation.
“Never,” she argued, and Morgan laughed.
He sat on the stone ledge by the enormous window as he drained the bath, and then he guided her to another corner of the enormous bathroom. There was a subtle drain in the floor and an enormous rain-style shower head above, and when he turned it on, it was like being suffused in a gentle rainstorm.
“Beautiful,” she murmured, and he grinned.
“I can't take credit,” he admitted. “These are just the quarters I'm allocated for my duties. This is far better than some of the places I've traveled.”
Yvonne knew that while some of the judges maintained stable posts over their careers, others traveled as they were needed. She bit her lip at the thought that Morgan might leave again so soon. Resolutely, she put the thought out of her mind.
“What's the worst place you've ever stayed?” she asked instead, and he looked thoughtful, running the soapy sponge all over her lush curves. She purred with pleasure when the soothing sponge was pressed to places more intimate, and she rested her weight comfortably against his body. It was like they had always known each other, always touched each other with this kind of intimacy.
“Well, when I was helping out with an infestation of firedrakes in the northern part of Illinois, the local shapechangers put me up in a hole.”
“Apartment in the bad part of town?”
“No, a literal hole,” he corrected, with an amused twist to his mouth. “A hole in the ground.” Morgan shrugged. “It was warm, and you know, after a while, you only get so dirty.”
“I bet you like this better,” Yvonne teased, and when he was silent for a long moment, she looked up to find him gazing at her with a deep, soul-shaking intensity.
“I do,” he said softly. “By far.”
***
“Well, I'm glad it's warm, at least,” she groused. “If it were colder, I'd have to stitch two of these shirts together to get around.
“I don't mind in the least,” Morgan said, eying her appreciatively.
There was a lacy black camisole that clung to her curves, and underneath, her hips were wrapped with an enormous rectangle of soft fabric dyed in a soft pattern of blue and silver. She tied it clumsily at her hip, but every step she took showed tantalizing glimpses of her shapely legs. Fortunately, there was a pair of flip flops that fit her well enough, and when she emerged from the cabin, she felt at least fairly decent.
Yvonne was just wondering whether she should change back to her swan shape to fly back to her car, miles away, when Morgan took her hand.
“If I could impose on you for a little longer, I'd like you to come with me.”
Yvonne grinned. “If you want to play some more, you should have told me before I got dressed,” she teased, but he shook his head.
“I wish my business were so pleasant. No, I am meeting with the other judges of Harrispont tonight. I want you to tell them what happened last night.”
The grin faded from Yvonne's face as she remembered her assault. Until now, she had put it out of her mind. It had been terrifying to be grabbed while she was naked and fresh from her transformation, and to be chased through the woods like a prey animal. She felt equal parts of rage and helplessness well up inside her, and she bit her lip.
Tales of the Golden Judge: 3-Book Bundle - Books 4-6 Page 3